Netflix has a complex history with adult animation. Some of their most critically acclaimed original comedies are animated: “BoJack Horseman,” “Big Mouth,” last year’s excellent “Long Story Short.” And yet there’s the other side of the coin with duds like last year’s “Haunted Hotel,” and the truly execrable “Hoops,” a show so bad that I mistakenly remembered its title as “Balls” the other day.
Watching “Strip Law,” the newest Netflix adult animated show, I had flashbacks to 2020’s “Hoops,” and wondered why. It’s because, in our review of it, Nick Allen wrote criticism that could fit directly into an introduction to a piece about “Strip Law”: “…a show that quickly numbs the viewer to the provocative effect of an f-bomb, and simply comes off as trying too hard to be naughty. An optimist would call this episode a cry for help from the writer’s room, but it’s more believable that the show is just blissfully unaware as to how unfunny it is, while being caught up in a tired reference.”
The “unfunny” this time stars Adam Scott as Las Vegas attorney Lincoln Gumb. Scott plays him basically as if “Parks and Recreation”’s Ben Wyatt broke up with Leslie Knope and moved to the city of sin. He’s a bit uptight, but the right people and situation can allow him to let his hair down. Like every character on “Strip Law,” he’s a two-dimensional bore, an idea for a person instead of anything real. Even the broadest “raunchy” animated comedies need something interesting at the center to hold onto. BoJack, Nick & Andrew on “Big Mouth,” even Peter Griffin define the tones of their show; Lincoln is a black hole of a character, the insecure guy who gives shocked looks at the chaos around him when he’s not conducting it.
Said chaos is primarily defined by two characters: A magician names Sheila Flambe (Janelle James) who joins Lincoln’s law firm to be his counter-weight when it comes to the showmanship needed to win Vegas court cases that can only be tried in the desert, and a slovenly vet named Glem Blorchman (Stephen Root), who has been disbarred so many times that he can probably only (and barely) try cases in Vegas. Other voice cast regulars include Keith David as nemesis attorney Steve Nichols, Aimee Garcia as Irene Gumb, and George Wallace as himself, the Mayor of Las Vegas. Wallace actually considered running for mayor in the 2000s, and his brief appearances are rare highlights of the series.
“Strip Law” is one of those shows that has an anchor plot every episode, but it’s used mostly as an excuse for quick, one-off, often lewd jokes a la “Family Guy.” In one of the better episodes, Glem seeks redemption after getting his license back by taking a case of a nearby town that has become perpetually drunk because its drinking water has been poisoned by the run-off from the sinks behind the bars of the Strip. If you think drunk kids are funny, this is the show for you.
Even worse are the non-stop dated references, including such timely things as the California Raisins (“Nevada Grown Dates: Open Your Mouth and Take Them”) and Austin Powers. There’s almost a meta comedy aspect to the writing on “Strip Law” in that the references are SO dated and stale that just making them becomes a joke on its own. No one thinks an Austin Powers joke is funny anymore, but Vegas isn’t normal. It’s a place caught in time, where you’re still gonna hear jokes from the ‘80s and ‘90s, and might even run into a Powers impersonator. The sixth episode is basically just a collection of standalone jokes/clips built around a hideous Dean Martin impression. People rip on MacFarlane’s shows for being unfocused, but they look downright straightforward compared to this.
All of this analysis falls away under a simple truth: “Strip Law” just isn’t funny. As with all comedies, your mileage may vary, but I couldn’t even get through the first season. Maybe you like “Hoops,” too.
Seven episodes screened for review. Now on Netflix.